See You Hurry
by FreedBird
Summary: She saw it coming all along. Perhaps ignorance isn't always bliss. Sometimes Ignorance just delays the inevitable.
1. Leave My Body

"_I'm gonna be released from behind these lies, and I don't care whether I live or die, and I'm losing blood. I'm gonna leave my bone, and I don't want your heart. It leaves me cold__" _

_**Florence & the Machine – Leave My Body.**_

* * *

><p>October 25th, 2011<p>

In all truth, I can't say I didn't see it coming. I did, I knew it would happen. My problem was ignoring these fears.

I knew it was too good to be true.

Now it's all over.

* * *

><p>October 25th, 2010<p>

"You know? I always loved Fall the most." It's true. Fall has always been my favorite season. The leaves die, turning into an array of different warm colors, bringing some sort of magical cheer to the otherwise cloudy and gloomy weather.

She lifted her head off of my shoulder and looked at me with amusement and tenderness dancing on her eyes. "I didn't know you held a preference for any season, Jane. I always thought you wouldn't care about these things." And Maura would be right. I usually don't. I have a hard-ass reputation to uphold. But she makes me feel safe. With her, I can be tender and weak, strong and powerful. I can be me.

I smile, and I look back at her as we keep walking. "Well, usually I wouldn't," I agreed. "But the fall…well I can't help but love it. It has charm, you know? It has a warm feeling. It's like you. Colorful and warm. It's beautiful." At this declaration she smiles widely. We've been together for some time – two months to be exact. It's been a journey and it has been amazing so far. "How about you? Any special season you like?"

"I would have to go with winter."

"Winter?" As far as I know, they are usually a disappointment, since every year her parents find a way to get out of spending Christmas with her. "Why winter?" I asked.

"Because, when the weather is freezing, I always have you to keep me warm," she said. I smiled at her and we came to a stop. She smiled back and then stepped in front of me. Her eyes sparkled, and I realized what she meant. No matter what relationship we had before, we were always there to keep each other warm –either with a smile or with a kiss, we're always there for each other. She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. Absolute happiness and giddiness erupted from inside me, and I start to wonder how I was ever happy before her.

* * *

><p>October 25th, 2011<p>

I reached for the bottle of tequila. It was going to be one of _those_ nights. I can't bring myself to feel angry towards my lack of restraint. It hurt too much to feel. It hurt too much to breathe. It hurt too much.

I thought we were happy. I really did, but then it seems someone else can fill my shoes. Hell, maybe it was _me_ trying to fill _someone else's_ shoes this whole time.

"Fucking hell, Rizzoli!" I yell to no one but myself. My apartment was empty, after all. I drop down on my couch and I stare at the bottle in my hands. It's straight from the bottle for me.

I plop my feet on the coffee table. She's not here to tell me off for doing this. "Fuck her," I whisper, my voice hoarse from my lack of use. I find myself speaking less and less these days. I have nothing to talk about. Even if Korsak disagrees and thinks we should talk about feelings. I'm done talking about feelings. It's bad enough that they choke me, suffocate me. I don't need to also talk about them.

* * *

><p>November 15th, 2010<p>

We are on her bed, naked and satiated. We spent all morning making love. It was our day off after a long and grueling case. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my time than with her, like this. I looked at her: her head on my shoulder, he leg thrown across my body and her fingers tracing patterns on my stomach. She was smiling. She looked perfect. She was perfect. "I love you," I confessed. Her ministrations stopped instantly. She lifted her head and stared at me. Her eyes were deep and intense.

I could see her thinking. I could feel her processing what I just said. I was close to a heart attack. _Please say something; please tell me you love me back._

"I love you too."

We didn't leave the bed until dinner.

* * *

><p>October 25th, 2011<p>

I knew it was too good to be true. I knew these things don't last. No matter how long I sit here, holding the ring I bought for her, it will not bring her back. "Fuck love! Fuck her! Fuck Ian, and his fucking perfect body, and his accent, and his selflessness, and his impressive doctor title. Fuck them all!"

I get up from the couch and stumble to the kitchen. I walk to the sink and drop the goddamn ring down the drain. I flip the switch on the wall and hear as the garbage disposal destroys any reminder that there ever was any future to anything Maura and I had for the short time we were together.

"Fuck her."


	2. Breaking Down

"_I can see it coming from the edge of the room,_

_Creeping in the streetlight,_

_Holding my hand in the pale gloom._

_Can you see it coming now?"_

**Florence and the Machine – Breaking Down**

* * *

><p>December 13th, 2010<p>

I walked briskly towards the small and quaint coffee shop. Once inside I try to shake the cold off of me. Winter has arrived, and it seems to be coming back with a vengeance. The streets of Boston are slightly covered in a light-brown, and thin, snow-slushy. The sides of the roads are covered in snow, and it seems that the weather won't be letting up any time soon.

Jesse "The Coffee-Man" asks me if I'm getting "The same as usual?" He knows me almost as well as the nurses at the hospital across from the precinct. I guess that's wound to happen after coming here every morning for the past two years.

"Not this time, Jesse. Only one," I smile. This time it's only coffee for me.

"The missus is gone on another conference?"

I tell him that, "Actually, she is at her parents'. Has been there for a week…visiting." And I miss her terribly. "She's back tomorrow!" I can't help the smile that spreads over my face when I tell him this. "And she's not yet my missus, Jesse."

"Soon I hope, detective. A woman like that deserves someone to get on their knee with a ring of their hand." He's right.

Things have been slow at work –it seems killers like the cold even less than us. It's the kind of week I've been waiting for. Although her absence doesn't exactly fill me joy, it gives me more free time to think of ways to ask her the big question. I'm going to ask Maura to marry me. I don't see a reason why not. I love her, she loves me. There's no reason why I shouldn't do this.

"Soon enough, Coffee-Man!"

* * *

><p>October 26th, 2011<p>

I'm standing outside a Starbucks, waiting for this fucking line to move already. It's not that hard, people: Order what you need, then leave. I'm freezing my balls off, and it's snowing. My head is splitting into fours, and it seems Advil doesn't do the job as well at it used to. "Fuck it. I'll get some coffee at work."

I get into my car and drive the six miles left to get to the precinct. So far, no new cases, which means I'm stuck reading through cold ones, trying to figure out what clues have been missed that could bring closure to the victims and their families.

Although it may sound like a terrible thing to wish for, I really want a new case –anything to take me away from the building. I need something new to keep my head occupied. Otherwise I'm afraid I'll drown in my thoughts…and tequila.

* * *

><p>December 1st, 2010<p>

She's been too quiet. For the past week Maura has been distracted and unusually silent. I've asked her if there was anything wrong, but she insists on telling me she's fine. I have no reason not to believe her. After all, she can't lie.

We're on her couch, watching a documentary on food processing and its industry. I would have to admit that it _is_ interesting, but the fact that my girlfriend is merely staring at the screen keeps me from wanting to pay much attention to the material, and more towards the obvious problem at hand. She never loses focus on _anything_ unless there's something that is truly bothering her.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've been distant for these last few days." As I ask her his, she turns to look at me. Her stare is deep and thoughtful. Her stare is almost apologetic, and even a little guilt dances at the surface of her eyes. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I love you."

I see her smile a little at my statement. "I know," she tells me. "Nothing is wrong. And I love you too. I'll always love you."

* * *

><p>October 26th, 2011<p>

I walk into the bullpen, knowing that it was going to be the same monotonous day. My life has turned into Groundhog Day.

"Jane!" Korsak comes running towards me, holding a folder in his left hand, and waving his outstretched, left arm as he dodges people to keep himself from running into anyone. "Jane, I have something…well…It's important and…just follow me."

Well, damn...color me curious.

* * *

><p>December 2nd, 2010<p>

"So you're going to your parents'?" I didn't mean to sound so skeptical about it, but they haven't talked to her since she told them about our relationship. "Do you want me to come with you? I know that– "

"—actually, I think it best if I go alone. I think they will be most comfortable if it's just me," she tells me this as she's folding her turquoise dress, and carefully placing it in her luggage.

"I understand." And I did. My only issue was her short notice. "I just…I don't understand why you suddenly have to go. I thought they would be the kind of people to tell you with a little more time. We could have had plans." And I did have plans. I had a ring which I purchased four days ago, and I was planning on giving it to her that week.

She looks at me curiously. As far as she knows, our plans consist of hot chocolate and a movie, with us sitting on her couch in our pajamas. "We don't have plans, Jane. I don't know what the problem is."

"No, there's no problem. I was just sayin'. That's all," I explained. I walk around her and hug her from behind. I feel her stop what she's doing. She leans back against me and moves her head to the left, allowing me to place a kiss on her neck. Maybe it's better this way. She can fix things with her parents and it'll give me more time to prepare. "You'll call me if you need anything, okay?"

She turns around and looks at me. There's something troubling her, I can see it. I can feel it. Perhaps she's nervous about meeting her parents. Maybe they did ask her to go visit sooner and that is why she's been so distant. I've given up asking her about it, though. She'll tell me when she's ready.

She leans forward, standing on her toes since we're at home and she's barefoot. She kisses me gently at first, but then it escalates to a kiss full of hunger and want. It was aggressive and possessive.

It felt too much like goodbye.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>_ I would like to thank everyone who left a comment. It means a lot to me, and I'm_ really_ glad you guys like this story, and I hope I don't disappoint any of you.

I can't say how often I'll be able to update -college is hitting me hard. hopefully every weekend.

I'm not sure how intricate I'll make the new case, since I know many people don't read these stories for the "case drama", ut my favorite show is Fringe, which means I love intricate mysteries.


	3. See You Hurry

"_I got a note today from you,_

_Spelling out some humble truths,_

_That if took to the woods_

_Maybe that'd do some good."_

**See You Hurry – WIM**

* * *

><p>October 26th, 2011<p>

I followed Korsak, hoping this was worth the drama. What the hell could be having him running around like a cheetah on crack? "Okay, Korsak, slow down!" I don't know how he manages to dodge all these people, but I'm losing patience and he hasn't told me anything yet, and I _really_ hope this is worth it.

He finally stops in front of Cavanaugh's office before bursting right in. "okay, what the hell is going on?" I question both men in the office. Cavanaugh looks at me with an expression which no one ever wants to see on their boss's face: he looks terrified.

"Rizzoli, what you're about to be told…what we're going to tell you…" He can't seem to finish his sentence, and I'm here starting to wonder what kind of news I'm about to be told. "This new case...we need the best of the best, but we also need total confidentiality."

Korsak, who had been standing next to me all along, opens the folder and spreads the contents on the desk in front of us. At that moment I realized what people mean with be careful what you wish for.

I wanted a new case to take my mind off my fucked up life. I just wanted a new case, not the fucking X-files.

* * *

><p>December 4th, 2010<p>

"I think you should wait, honey," my mother advices me, as I mix the vegetables for the salad with my hands. The oil is dripping through my hands as it mixes with the rich tomato juice. I just told her about my plans to ask Maura to be my wife. I thought she'd be happy. She loves Maura, she always wanted me to get married and pop out children as often as my vagina would allow. Yet, here she is now, telling me that, "It's too early. You just started dating a few months ago!"

"Ma, I know, okay? I know it seems like it's too soon," I try to reason. "But we've known each other for years. Even you said how we've been faux-dating all that time we were friends."

"I just…I think it's a little too early. She'll be here a few more months from now."

I think back to how Maura has been acting for the past days. Maybe she's right. Maybe right now is not the right time.

* * *

><p>September 19th, 2011<p>

"For how long, Maura?" I can feel my chest compressing, as if a huge weight has been dropped on my body and it's slowly depriving me of my ability to breathe or move.

She frowns, trying to figure out what I'm talking about. Her eyes, dark and dull, search my face. She looks confused. "I don't…I don't know what you're—"

"—about _Ian_, Maura! How long have you _known_ that he's been in Boston" My voice is low, but desperate and pleading.

Her eyes widen, her mouth drops and I realize what people mean when your heart breaks into so many pieces you're not even sure if it'll ever be whole again. He didn't lie. She's known for a while. They've seen each other. Now the guilt that as heavy in her eyes, in her walk, in her everything…suddenly it all makes sense.

* * *

><p>October 26th, 2011<p>

I chance a closer look at the crime scene photos. A corpse, pale from the loss of blood, glows in the crimson contrast of the blood that surrounds it. The torso had been mutilated by a series or words that had been carved into the chest and abdomen. The hands had been chopped off, and the head…God, the head! The killer had slit the sides of the mouth to form a wide smile –the lips painted red to match the slashed flesh of her cheeks. The eyelids stitched to the eyebrows, keeping them wide open.

"I can see this guy is fucking crazy, but I don't understand why this case is given more priority than others."

Cavanaugh sighs. I guess it's not the first time someone makes this question. "I know," he says, eyes shifting to the photos I'm holding." It's not…this case, Rizzoli, we believe is the work of a serial killer we thought had died. It's not the first time this M.O. has been used." He stands up and walks heavily to the file cabinet at the far corner of the office. He drags his feet, shoulders hunched forward and eyes tire. Fucking hell. "the only difference is the writing."

"He's leaving _clues_, Jane!" Korsak looks panicked and excited all at once. "Everything about the pose and the cuts on the face…_everything_ is the same except for the_ carvings_!"

"So, basically," I start to reason. "You're telling me that we are looking for a zombie serial killer? Guys, Halloween is not until five days, so quit fucking with me."

Cavanaugh turns violently from his position to face me. "God _damn it_, Rizzoli!" Cavanaugh yells. "This is _serious_!"

Well, fuck me.

* * *

><p>January 5th, 2011<p>

We are sitting on her couch. The dim light of the television is illuminating her body that is cuddle up against mine.

We still do the same things we did before she left to visit her parents. It's different, though. Something is off.

Maybe I should wait a little longer to propose. Maybe she'll soon tell me what is making her this quiet.

* * *

><p>October 26th, 2011<p>

"The other reason we brought you here is to…well, to inform you that we will be working with Dr. Isles. She's the best in the field, which means you and her—"

"—no," there's no way.

"Rizzoli, I don't pretend to know what happened that made you two break up, and Dr. Isles transfer, but we _need_ her, and that's final!"

I'm seething. Who the fuck does he think he is? I'm already a mess; I don't need her here with her fucking _boyfriend_ to remind me why I drown myself in alcohol every other night to keep myself from dreaming about_ her_. "Then you better find someone else to work this goddamn case. I'm not doing it."

Cavanaugh looks like he's ready to kill. "_Fuck_, Rizzoli! If you don't do this you're _fire_!"

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

I love the reviews. I love to see how people are taking to this story, and it's incredibly flattering to have so many people interested in reading this.

On that note, I would like to point out that many of you are way off in your predictions. Things which may seem obvious, are not as simple as they seem. Also, although I would love it if I could, this will not be a Fringe crossover (as someone pointed out in the comments). I'd love to write one, but I love the show so much I might just write a little too much on the Fringe case and the team, and lose track of any _romance_. If enough people ask for it, then I'd love to do one since I've been waiting for people to write one for ages! Imagine Maura and Walter working together...WONDERFUL!

Thank you, everyone. I hope this chapter is up to par with your expectations.


	4. Something Better Beginning

_"Each step that I took with you_  
><em>Brought one thing closer to my mind<em>  
><em>Is this the start of another heart breaker<em>  
><em>Or something better beginning<em>  
><em>Something better beginning"<em>

**_Something Better Beginning – The Kinks_**

* * *

><p>October 26th, 2011<p>

Anger. That's all I could _feel_,_ smell_,_ hear,_ and_ taste_. It was everywhere and digging deeper inside me. They had _no right_, no right at all to call her back here. Now not only am I dealing with a fucking psychopath, but also with the new prospect of having to work with her again. Why did she even agree to this? She was the one that left, the one who couldn't make up her mind. I was getting through this, and now it's back to square one, because I know that her being here will rip me apart and pull me inside-out.

I look at the speedometer in front of me. Fuck, I'm thirty miles above the speed limit. Thank fuck for lazy patrols.

I reach home, holding the case folder tightly in my hands. This fucker is sick, and I have decades of murders to go through, and this guy sure kept busy.

I drag my feet up each step towards the entrance of the apartment complex. Before I can put my key in the doorknob Marissa, my young neighbor, yanks the door wide open. "_Jesus!_ Jane, you scared me."

I smiled, because of all the people today, she is the first one to greet me the most pleasantly, and not with some kind of fucked-up, bad news.

"Well, _maybe_," I explain. "If you didn't try to rip the door off its hinges, you wouldn't meet the people on the other side so suddenly."

She smiles, a small blush coloring her cheeks. "I'm late for a study session, so I was speeding out." I step aside and let her walk to her car. As she opens her car door, she turns to look at me. "You know," she starts. "I can tell you're alone in there." She points towards my window with her chin. "You are always welcome to come by and pay me a visit. I'm an International Relations graduate student. I know how to brew coffee as well as any barista around here."

I look at her for a few seconds. Her grin reaching her eyes – eyes which sparkle a little. She looks so sincere…and bright…and in perspective to what I've been going through these weeks, it's a sight most welcomed. "Yeah…I'd like that." Because, why not? It's better than drowning in tequila, that's for sure.

Her smile widens, and she turns to her car. She drives away, and now it's time for me to go inside. I have a case to review.

* * *

><p>December 6th, 2010<p>

I was concentrating on cutting the onions for the salad, when the distinct ringing of my landline starts going off. Wondering who would be calling me on my house phone, when most people that know me call my cell phone, I put down the knife and jog to the phone. I place it between my ear and shoulder, while I dry my hands free from any onion juice. "Hello?" I ask.

"Jane? It's Maura." I stopped drying my hands. Why the hell is she calling my house phone and not my cell phone?

"Is everything okay? Do you need anything? I'm sure I can send you something you for—"

"—No…Jane, stop! I just called you to tell you I'm staying a little longer. I should be back the 14th. Okay?" She sounds worried, and oddly anxious.

"I…okay. Are you sure everything's fine?"

"Yes. Don't worry. I love you, Jane."

* * *

><p>October 26th, 2011<p>

My god, this guy is fucking crazy. There's not a single picture in which the body isn't missing some part of its anatomy. I decide that, instead of reading someone else's notes on the case, I should first make my own observations. What I find most curious is this guy's sudden use of words. Why change his M. O.?

I look closely at the picture of the carved inscription:_ Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'entrate._

"…L'inferno Di Dante." Well,_ fuck_.

* * *

><p>October 27th, 2011<p>

Today is the day my life becomes total shit. Today Maura is coming to the precinct to work with us on the case, and calling in sick has never been more appealing.

Unlike most days, today I'm driving within the speed limit. I stop at all the yellow lights and I allow some people to jump the line at Starbucks while I wait to place my order. They are not big, but these semi-subtle ways of prolonging the inevitable are the only solution to calming my nerves. I need more time to collect myself before I have to face her.

I reached the precinct, my stomach in knots, and my hands shaking uncontrollably. Fuck, I should put them in my pocket.

The closer I get to the front doors the faster I feel my stomach churning, my insides getting colder and the urge to vomit increases exponentially.

I go through the normal security check at the entrance of the P.D. and I struggle to breathe as I see the elevator. I nod and force a smile towards the guard as he clears me to fully enter the building and I cautiously walk to the elevator. I press the arrow pointing up, and I wonder if I'll die of a heart attack before I reach the bullpen.

The elevators doors open and I step in. I remind myself that it won't be just myself and her in that office, but also Cavanaugh, Korsak and some FBI hot-shot that is supposed to help us solve the case and keep it secret from the public. Why not just give it to the FBI, and let them handle it themselves? Those fuckers sure know how to keep shit secret.

I walk passed my desk and straight to Cavanaugh's office – might as well get it over and done with. I stop right in front of the door. I carefully wrap my hand around the handle, and I see the scar in the middle of the back of my hand. I'm reminded of the time when a man decided to plague my mind with nightmares and managed to possess me, even when he was caged with the other animals. Even after death, for a few months, his face took over my conscious and subconscious, but I fought hard and won. I couldn't let this problem with Maura take away the only stability I've had in my life. Because, through all the nightmares and before Maura, there was always my job keeping me grounded, and the knowledge that it will help me through my hard days by allowing me to give justice to those who weren't as lucky as me to survive.

I open the door and I meet Cavanaugh's eyes. He looks even more tired than when I last saw him. This case is going to eat him alive.

As our eyes meet and I can feel three other figures turning to look at me. I look around the office, and I remind myself that when my eyes land on her they must look away and not linger. But when they do land on her, and I can see that she looks as breathtaking as I knew she would, and when breathing becomes a mechanical process which I have to regulate, I realize that this is going to be harder than I thought. Suddenly my heart starts hammering against my chest like I'm on crack, and I can barely hear the greetings from the other officers through the powerful sound of my blood pumping through my body.

her mouth opens, and whispers, "Hello, Jane."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Sorry for the delay. To say I've been busy with school is a gross understatement. I'm still busy but I'm procrastinating, so...

I decided to include Marissa into the story because I've read stories with her in it, and I really like how people write her. I decided it would be an interesting addition to the story. I made her an International Relations (IR) student because that's what I'm studying, and because everyone else writes her as a law student, and that'll get old pretty soon...for me.

On another note, I know many of you are confused with the timeline. The plan is to explain everything in order soon, in Maura's point-of-view chapter. I'd like to thank RavenSkyAngel for explaining the order of events for everyone.

Once again I'll like to express how amused (and sometimes slightly horrified) I am at everyone's predictions. Again, people and situations are much more complicated than what we give them credit for...


	5. Love In Vain

_"I let go of your hand and you suggest I go_

_And with that I was gone_

_And after all that was said_

_Was it meaningless_

_When you danced with me_

_To "walkin' in the sand"?_

_And I'd like you to know_

_That my love is love that you can be sure of_

_So tell me now and I won't ask again"_

**Love in Vain – The Big Pink**

November 15th, 2010

I could see it in her eyes, like always. She loves me, and I love her. I love her so much. And she tells me… for the first time she _tells_ me, "I love you."

Her eyes are shinning and I can barely breathe. My heart speeds up and I want to take her again. I want to kiss her until we can barely breathe, and then worship her body until the early morning.

But then I remember Ian. I remember how he told me he loved me, how I confessed I returned his feelings, and then he left. I woke up the next day and he was gone.

They_ always_ leave.

But she was still waiting, and I could see worry seeping into her eyes. "I love you too." Because I did, and I_ do_, but the fear of her eventually leaving started to pour inside me. I could feel my fear spreading like water. Spreading through me quickly, making me cold from the inside-out.

* * *

><p>November 16th, 2010<p>

"Office mail, Dr. Isles," my lab assistant informs me, as he approaches my desk. He walks out of the room once I hand him the signed files of two reports I finished today.

I glance at the stack of envelopes, and one of them catches my eye. It's a worn, white envelope, with yellowing corners and several stamps on the top right corner. Last time I received an envelope like this one…no…it couldn't be.

My hands start shaking, and all I want to do is go home, lie on the couch with Jane and watch an awful action movie with her and pretend I never laid eyes on this. All I can do, however, is reach slowly for the paper envelope. I have to know what it says, and it scares me that after all this time, he's trying to reach me again.

_Dear Maura,_

_I'm coming back._

_You and me, we're meant forever, and I should never have left. I want you, and I want our future to be what we planned. Remember our talks? Remember how we used to plan how many children we'll have? 5. That's how many you wanted. And we'd move to the country, and I would open a small clinic, while you worked at a local morgue._

_I love you._

_-Ian_

* * *

><p>December 1st, 2010<p>

I'm in my office. It's almost time to leave, and I honestly can't wait. This case, and Ian's letter has been keeping me on the edge. I have yet to tell Jane I ever got one.

I can tell she knows something's wrong. She knows me too well, and I can't tell her the truth. Perhaps the letter was written long ago, and he has found a new person that needs saving and has forgotten all about me. Dear Lord, I hope that is the case.

The ringing of my office phone pulls me from my thoughts. "Dr. Isles," I answer.

"Hey, gorgeous."

My heart stops for a brief second. His voice and his accent are unmistakable. "Ian."

"Hey there, Maura, How you been?" I can tell he's smiling. "I missed you."

I sigh, and I can feel a headache starting to form. "Ian, why are you calling?"

There's silence for a few seconds.

"Maura…I…I know you're angry and hurt about me leaving. I love you. I'm done in Africa, Love. I-"

"I'm with someone else now. I'm in_ love_."

I hear him chuckle. "I know, I know… But what we had," He becomes serious. "What we _have_ –that can't just have disappeared for you," He says.

I sigh. This headache will only get worse with this conversation. I place two fingers at the bridge of my nose, and I wonder why things can't ever go smoothly for me in the romance department. "Ian, I can't…I can't do this. You can't just contact me, after months of silence, and after ending things with me, looking to have a relationship!"

"Damn it, Maura! I'm not giving up on us."

The line goes dead.

I slam the phone back into its place, I gather my things, and I speed off to my car. I need wine.

I get home and I see Jane has set up for our movie night. I forgot about it. Ian's call is keeping my mind away from important matters.

After she sets everything up, and I've changed into more comfortable clothes, I start to go over the conversation in my mind.

"Are you okay?" I look to my left and see Jane staring me, concern dripping from her eyes. I look at the screen and see characters which I don't remember, and a setting which I can't think how it came to the story.

"I'm fine." I try to smile, but I'm sure she can tell is not real.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've been distant for these last few days." Damn it, Jane. I'm so sorry.

I can't tell her though. She can never know about Ian, and his sudden quest for my affection. She struggled to accept my feelings for her, claiming that I was in love with someone else, that he was the love of my life, and feelings that strong do not just disappear when you meet someone new.

Those feelings feeling were just an illusion, a fantasy fabricated by the mind of an impressionable, younger self. Just like Garret, Ian is only an important part of my_ past_ that served as a good reminder of what it felt like to be loved. After so many years of solitude (the years before I met Jane) I needed a reminder of what it felt like to be cared for. I needed a reminded that I was not alone.

But Jane is_ here_. She is _real_, and I love her. She's not an illusion from younger, impressionable years. She's not a glorified memory. She is my girlfriend. This is why I can't tell her. I can tell she knows I'm hiding something, and I hate to know that I am (in whichever form) lying to her. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I love you." She tells me.

"I know," I tell her. "Nothing is wrong. And I love you too. I'll always love you."

Always.

* * *

><p>December 2nd, 2010<p>

My parents just called to invite me over to their house. My parents, whom have practically disowned me since I announced my relationship with Jane to them, want me to come visit them.

I walk from my bedroom to the living room, where I find Jane flipping through channels. "You'd think that with over 300 channels, I'd find something to watch."

She's spread on my couch, limbs everywhere, wearing sweatpants, a tight shirt, her hair in a ponytail, and the remote by her side, on the couch, after she found a channel she found somewhat entertaining. I smile, and feel warmth seep through me. It's such a familiar sight, one I never had before I met her. There was never anyone in my house, spending a lazy day with me before I met her.

I can't tell her about Ian. I can't lose her. I can't risk her freaking out about this and running.

I need her with me. She's so much more than I ever thought I deserved.

"You okay?" she's looking at me. I don't know how long I've been standing here, looking at her. Her head now is tilted back to be able to look at me.

"I love you, you know that?" I confess.

She smiles. Her smile is so wide. I can't help but have_ my_ smile widen. "I know," she says. "I love you too."

And I know I'll never be cold again, so long as I'm with her.

"My parents called. They want me to come over tomorrow, to visit them."

Jane sits up quickly. She looks shocked. That makes two of us, honey. "I…wow. Are they ready to listen?"

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>December 3rd, 2010<p>

After I'm done packing, I kiss her as hard as I can. My worries about Ian's persistence, my parents' past attitudes towards my relationship with Jane –everything was adding up and it drove me in my kiss.

I_ can't_ lose you._ I can't_. I know she is worried about this trip, and that she doesn't want me to go alone. But I have to see what they want.

I reached my parents' house an hour after landing. Their house is large, and impersonal enough that I'll never miss it. It is nothing like Jane's home, and it is everything like my own before I fell in love with a headstrong detective.

I knock on the door, and a new butler opens the door. Their need for ostentatious habits make me wonder if they are a way to replace an emptiness that they can never fill with each other. I wonder, if perhaps, luxury is a glittering mask, where their true, desperate, lonely, and desolate faces are hidden even from themselves.

Ignorance is blissful to those who fear the truth above anything else.

I announce my name to the man in front of me, and he nods curtly. He's been told of my expected visit. I follow him through the house, though I know it by hear –having lived here for most of my early childhood and during school breaks.

As we approach the small tea room, I can hear strings of an active conversation. As I see the occupants of the room, the air runs from my lungs. One of them, the one whose back is facing me, turns to me. A smile spreads, and eyes shine.

"Hello, Maura. Good to see you again."

My eyes widen and my legs feel weak. "Ian, what are you doing here?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Well, hello there! Anyone still reading this? I know I've been away for a while, and I assure you all I have a perfect and reasonable excuse: I was diagnosed with Vertigo my second day of Thanksgiving break. Amazing, I know. For those of you who do not know, Vertigo is a condition that makes everything around you seem like it's spinning. And yes, it is also a song by U2. Anyway, I had to miss a whole other week of school, so by the time I was back, I had to make up for a week-worth of lectures, I had only one week left before finals, and I had work to be done for_ that_ week I had left on top of _everything_.

I hope this was a reasonable excuse for all of you.

This chapter contains the same dates as the ones from previous chapters, excluding the ones happening in the "present" and they are in chronological order, and in Maura's point of view.

_Obviously_ these are not all the dates mentioned in the previous chapters, but I want to also go back to the present story line, which I will in the next chapter.

I hope you guys like this chapter. I felt it necessary to explain Maura's position in all of this. I realize that relationships are not very easy. We all go into them with many insecurities, and sometimes small misunderstanding can lead to catastrophic results. These are the same events described by Jane, only this time we get a different look at them.

I also wonder if anyone actually searches the songs that I quote with every chapter? This band, I find, is highly underrated. And there'll be another band that I'll quote soon enough that is also _highly_ unappreciated.

Anyway, have a good day/night/evening, and thanks for reading. Especially for getting this far through an author's note. Also, any reconstructive criticism is appreciated.

Ciao!


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